


Midnight Snack

by flootiger



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:18:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootiger/pseuds/flootiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buff Bill gets explained.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> Another short snippet of their lives :) 
> 
> This has been translated into french by thf user **Scandalous_M** and can be found [**here!**](http://wistenia.forumgratuit.org/t1194-twc-midnight-snack-by-em_rose483)
> 
> Thanks guys! Tokio love!

Tom woke with a start. He jerked up in bed and blinked into the dark, not sure what could have disturbed him. It took a moment for him to focus and when he did he turned groggily to look at the empty tangle of bed sheets by his side.   
  
“Bill?” He mumbled.   
  
He rubbed the nape of his neck with one hand and swung his legs to the floor, prepared to go in search of his twin. He glanced at the clock which flashed a red 3:48AM at him and wondered where Bill would be at nearly four in the morning.   
  
Perhaps he’d gone to feed the dogs, Tom mused with a grin, recalling a time when they’d done exactly that. Only back then, Simone had come in to admonish them and send them back to bed with promises of no desert tomorrow. Bill had been distraught but it was Scotty who Tom felt truly sorry for - they’d forgotten to feed him after dinner.   
  
Shaking his head at the memory, he made his way downstairs, trying to blink away fatigue but failing.   
  
 _Clatter_.   
  
Tom frowned, looking towards the kitchen and noticing a thin strip of light peeping through the bottom of the closed door. Apparently, Bill was in the kitchen.   
  
“Bill?” Tom pushed open the door, stooping briefly to scritch a needy pup behind the ears.   
  
He stood again and his jaw dropped. Bill was sitting at the island in the centre of the room surrounded by pots, pans, bowls, plates and piles of takeaway boxes, all filled with food. Tom saw waffles and Chinese, some of their mum’s left over veggie lasagne from the weekend, pasta dishes and pizza, some ice-cream and plenty of unidentifiable dishes that Tom wrinkled his nose at.   
  
“What are you doing?” he asked, staring at Bill, who had his mouth wrapped around a juicy looking veggie-burger.   
  
Bill chewed and swallowed but didn’t look up at Tom. “Eating my feelings.”   
  
“That’s a lot of food.”   
  
“I’ve got a lot of feelings.”   
  
Tom snorted. “I know that.”   
  
“Why are you eating so much at four o clock in the morning? I thought you liked my cooking,” he frowned, suddenly fearful that Bill might not like what he prepared for him every day.   
  
Bill shook his head as Tom shuffled closer. “I do like what you cook for me,” he reassured Tom. “But I got hungry.”   
  
“...so you decided to eat L.A?”   
  
Bill threw Tom a look then shrugged one shoulder. “I guess. Here,” he thrust one of the half-empty tubs of Chinese under Tom’s nose. “We haven’t tried this place before.”   
  
Tom eyed it warily, he wasn’t so sure they needed to try  _every_  takeout in California and he hadn’t heard of  _Rising Gods of the East_  before, as it was labelled. He wasn’t sure he trusted it.   
  
“Go on,” Bill urged. “It’s vegetarian, I made them double check everything before I paid.”   
  
Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m glad living away from Germany is having a positive effect on your attitude.”   
  
“I didn’t want us to get poisoned by the blood of wrongly slaughtered creatures,” Bill reasoned, digging into a bowl of ice-cream topped with strawberry sauce.   
  
Tom watched his twin, bemused. “Bill... are you alright?”   
  
Bill nodded. “Just hungry, I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”   
  
Tom pursed his lips and thought about that. Perhaps Bill’s swimming had finally taken its desired effect. Bill had wanted to put on a bit of muscle once they’d made the move to America and so far a daily swim hadn’t proven to do much more than increase his stamina in bed. Maybe all the exercise was wearing Bill out too quickly and he hadn’t been feeding himself properly.   
  
Tom frowned, realising that was his responsibility. Their mother had warned him to make sure Bill eats. Which was irritating, considering Tom had  _always_  been the one who made sure Bill ate, even when they’d still lived under Simone’s roof.   
  
“I’ll cook properly for you tomorrow,” Tom vowed as he stood behind Bill and placed both hands on his shoulders.   
  
Bill leaned back until his back hit Tom’s bare chest. “You always cook properly for me,” he said fondly.   
  
Tom grinned, his heart swelling with a pride that only Bill could instil. “Okay, I’ll cook you something properly at four in the morning. You can’t eat this crap all the time.”   
  
Bill motioned his hand over the array of foods before them indignantly. “This is proper!”   
  
“You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you eat like this every night,” Tom snorted, massaging his hands into Bill’s shoulders gently.   
  
Bill hummed in reluctant agreement. “I suppose. Can you make that pasta sauce dish? Only with Gustav-sized portions. I think I might be able to out-eat him at this rate.”   
  
Tom laughed and bent over Bill to kiss his cheek. He smiled against the skin when he felt the hot flush of Bill’s embarrassment.   
  
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Tom said. “I’m glad you’re finally eating like a real man.”   
  
“Mm,” Bill said softly and frowned. “At least the fans noticed my arms.”   
  
Tom chuckled, kissing Bill’s cheek again and wrapping his arms around his neck. “They notice everything about you.”   
  
“Not everything,” Bill, bringing one hand to rub sheepishly against the side of his neck.   
  
Tom bit his lip and grinned, remembering the love-bite he’d marked Bill with a night before their appearance. Swiftly, he swung Bill round on his stool until he was able to nudge Bill’s knees apart and settle between them. “If they’d noticed that then the interviewer may have asked a question or two more concerning your love life.”   
  
“I’m glad she didn’t ask,” Bill said, smiling dozily up at Tom.   
  
“Okay, bed time,” Tom said, pulling Bill to his feet. “You can finish this off in the morning.”   
  
Bill hummed, trailing after Tom. “I’m kind of not tired.”   
  
“I know another way to build up your muscle,” Tom said, glancing at Bill over his shoulder.   
  
Bill squeaked, clinging tighter onto Tom’s hand. “Sex is better than food anyway,” he declared.   
  
Tom smiled, tugging Bill into their bedroom and kissing him soundly on the lips. “Tastes better than any Chinese I’ve ever had.”   
  
Bill couldn’t agree more.


End file.
